Being Human (AND PUTTING UP WITH A TP BROTHER)
by WolfAtSea
Summary: My name is Luca Jameson. I am NOT one of the Tomorrow People. This is a story about ME, and those who came before me.
1. 0: What I need to say before we start

My name is Luca Jameson.

I'm NOT one of the Tomorrow People. My brother Stephen is. They have those powers that they call the three T's: telepath, teleportation, and telekinesis. They are pretty cool. More than pretty cool, actually. Then it turned out that my dad was one of them, too, and so is my mom. Plenty of crazy in this family to go around. Oh, and there was this "shadow war", as Stephen likes to call it, between a secret government organization called Ultra and his friends, but really it usually just came down to a grudge between my uncle and my brother. I didn't know any of this at that time, of course.

"The only way to keep my species from going extinct is to find my father.

And the only way to do that is by working for the enemy." Sound familiar? Stephen's line. He believed it. He went undercover at Ultra - although we all know now how not "undercover" he really was - and he did find our father. Except that our father died shortly after, how about that. I don't really remember a whole lot about him; I was four when he left, after all, so there wasn't a lot of harm done. And then suddenly a lot of awful stuff went down: people were dying, the world was ending, the Founder was going to wipe out the entire human race… and then voila, my brother saved the day. And then there was another secret government organization, another war, and another Apocalypse, but we are still here. Nice story, though it's not my story to tell.

Today I am going to tell you the story of me, and those who came before me.


	2. 1: How my crazy uncle came into my life

Author's Note:

I guess I should take the time to explain this story's setting. This story exists in the same universe as my other TP story, _The Days After Tomorrow_, which is my take what could happen after the first season. There is currently only one chapter to that story, but everything in this story should make sense based on that single chapter. This story is told through Luca's point of view. The events in this story happen either at the same time or after those in _The Days After Tomorrow_.

Starting in the next chapter, there will also be flashbacks to Jedikiah and Roger's earlier years during the 80s and 90s.

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Chapter 1: How my crazy uncle came into my life

Before we start, let me just clarify one thing: my uncle is crazy. It is common sense. Well, at least in this family and a number of academic and political circles. Not the criminally insane kind of crazy, or the American Psycho kind of crazy. No, it's the Adolf Hitler, I-am-going-to-save-the-world-even-if-it-means-taking-a-thousand-lives kind of crazy. Also, he was cuckoo enough to threaten his older nephew, Stephen the Chosen One, by pointing a gun at his younger nephew, which, unfortunately, was me.

My uncle put a bullet through my dad's heart, and now mom has invited him to come over for the Thanksgiving dinner. Just seems wrong, doesn't it? Let's start from the beginning:

The other day I was just doing homework but not really doing homework at the kitchen table. No one else was home. I had my Biology book open, trying to prepare for a test that I had no chance to do well on. Then the doorbell rang, and I assumed it was mom who forgot her keys. I opened the door, and choked on the smart remark about teleporting people using keys upon seeing who it was.

"Good afternoon, Luca." Jedikiah greeted. My apparently-very-intelligent-but-at-the-same-time-extremely-dangerous-and-emotionally-unstable uncle, in his perpetually fine-tailored western business attire, asked if my mother was home. I told him she wasn't.

"I need to talk to her. You mind if I come in and wait?"

In all honesty, I did mind. Strongly. But I said "Sure" and stepped aside to make way.

We went into the kitchen/dining/living room complex, and I went back to my work. Jedikiah sat down without a word, which suited me fine. I supposed that I should make conversation out of politeness, being an unwilling host and all, but what do you say to a man that once put a gun to your head? So we sat there in silence, and not after long it started to make me very uncomfortable. It was the most un-companionable kind of silence. My uncle sat there without making a sound, and the words on my Biology book looked as uninviting as ever. After some time, I looked up and saw him looking at me.

"What?"

"What are you working on?"

"Bio."

"Interesting."

I made a noncommittal noise and resumed the staring contest with my textbook.

"The course not going well?"

"It's okay. It's just there's a test tomorrow, and I am not going to do well."

"A test on what?"

"The cell cycle."

"I can help if you want me to. I _am_ a biologist, and I assume you know that."

"Don't bother." I said that in the best _end of conversation_ tone I could manage.

Another awkward silence.

"How's your mother doing?" Oh God.

"Fine."

"Really?"

"_Yes, really. _It's been four months." I hated this kind of conversation so much. "I mean, of course she's been better. We've all been better. And people are generally better off without their loved ones coming back from the dead just to die a few days later, aren't they?" My response seemed to make my uncle suddenly ill at ease, and I felt a little triumphant. It did not last long.

"Well, Luca, how are _you_ doing?"

"Oh, just peachy."

"Don't get all sarcastic, kid. I genuinely want to know."

My instinct was to bite back with _since when do you care _or something like that, but then, how _was_ I doing? I lost my dad, but then he was never around in the first place. I was confused. I was doing no different than how I'd always done.

"I am fine, really." I started. "I… I guess I don't really remember a lot about him - my dad. From way back, you know. I was turning four when he left, so… I wish I remembered more, I wish I feel … sadder, but I honestly don't. Stephen was older then, so I suppose he remembers much more. It hit him real hard, and my mom, too, so it seemed totally heartless for me to be so calm. But the truth is, I don't _feel_ the way they do." _Why am I saying all this, again?_ I had no idea.

"It's only natural. You don't have to feel bad."

"And then there is Stephen and all that Tomorrow People stuff. Sometimes I wish he would move out and live wherever those NYU people usually live, but of course we don't have that kind of money. Sometimes it's just too much to live with a world-saving, mind-reading brother."

"Oh, trust me, I know. I had to put up with a TP brother, too." Jedikiah laughed. "You know what, one day I will tell you all about it. All the stories about Roger and me."

I nodded.

"Hey, did Stephen ever tell you that I'm teaching him Bio at NYU?"

"Nah. He doesn't talk much about school." _And I am going to have so much fun teasing him about this. _"But seriously, you are a prof over at NYU?"

"Yeah. It's no Princeton, but one works with what he can get, right?"

I glanced at the digital clock display on the oven. 5:56. I'd been working on Bio for two hours and was getting nowhere.

"So… you are pretty good with the cell cycle, I suppose?"

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Stephen came home right when I was retelling what we'd gone over, namely the wonderful ways in which the mitotic spindle elongates the cell during the late anaphase of mitosis. I didn't even hear him come in. Then he saw Jedikiah sitting at our kitchen table, and for a brief moment, I was sure they would try to kill each other. And then mom came back from work with the most impeccable timing, saving our living room, and possibly me, from being defaced.

The adults went into the study to talk behind closed doors. Instead of taking advantage of the perfect eavesdropping opportunity, Stephen scolded me for letting Jedikiah in in the first place. I was still pissed at Stephen for the day before – some stupid stuff that you don't need to know – and I generally don't like getting scolded by the 18-year-old male figure of the family, so I told him to screw off. But seriously, when your uncle, who most certainly has a gun and a secret government organization at his disposal, shows up on your doorstep, what can you do? Call 911? Don't be ridiculous.

Later that night, Stephen said to me: "Do you know what that psychopath did? He killed Dad, that's what." He and mom proceeded to tell me a sanctioned version of what happened four months back, but I am positive I didn't hear a word. "When did you guys plan on telling me this" was the only thought going through my brain. But that is a story for later.

Jedikiah left after quite a long conversation with my mom. They didn't even argue or anything. Then mom announced that she'd invited Jedikiah over for Thanksgiving, and here goes the story of how my crazy uncle came into my life.


End file.
